


Wasted Time

by Dagger_Stiletto



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Eggsy, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Harry Lives, Kidnapping, M/M, Misunderstandings, No actual sex, Polyamory, Roxy is a Little Shit, Serious Injuries, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:57:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagger_Stiletto/pseuds/Dagger_Stiletto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy is in love with Merlin and Harry, but he hides it under everything he can because he doesn't want to mess up their decades-long relationship, even while they invite him to partake in "festivities." Roxy thinks he's an idiot. Of course some dumbass criminals kidnapping him have to fuck with everything, don't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasted Time

**Author's Note:**

> That is the worst summary I've ever done.
> 
> I decided to try my hand at some Merhartwin! I love this ship. I love Kingsman. Hopefully you guys like this.
> 
> This is not beta-read.

_Eggsy curls on the couch in_ Harry's comfortable home, mindlessly watching the telly. The house is quiet. He has the volume is set low so the noise won't disturb his companions upstairs. He can't sleep, but there's no reason to prevent them from doing so. His night terrors had awoken him, and surprisingly neither Harry or Aodhan— _Merlin_ \--had been rouse by them, which told him that he hadn't done any thrashing or whimpering. This time around, he'd ended up sleeping behind Harry, whom had rolled over to cuddle with Merlin, leaving Eggsy on the edge of the bed and free to slip away without notice. 

A blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his feet stuffed under snoring JB, and a cup of slowly cooling tea—the kind that Harry frowns at before it's in a bag, and he microwaved the water instead of using a kettle—keep him cozy and warm. He's sitting sideways along the couch, a pillow wedged between him and the back of the expensive piece of furniture to rest his head on.

Once again, as his mind is wont to do, his thoughts drift back to the men upstairs, curled around each other, basking in their relationship. What they have is amazing and beautiful, and Eggsy can aspire to someday have something like that, because as it stands, he's only an outsider looking in, one that's occasionally invited to partake in festivities.

It had only been too easy to fall for Harry Hart. It was pretty much expected, if one really thought about it. Roxy had given him a deadpan expression when he confessed to her. Attraction had blossomed for Merlin only after the parachute test, and if flourished the longer they had contact with each other, between Harry's “death” and Harry's return. Eggsy had literally been on the cusp of asking Merlin out when Harry was brought hoe to HQ med-bay, newly awakened from a medically-induced coma following lifesaving brain surgery.

Merlin greeted Harry with a kiss, and Eggsy, heart stricken, had backed out and avoided _everyone—_ except Roxy, since they were flatmates—for two weeks, claiming illness. Which wasn't entirely untrue, as he'd suffered some serious injuries following V-Day, and he still had bouts of fatigue and PTSD-like episodes.

Harry claimed his place as Arthur after majority vote. Eggsy declined the Galahad position and instead decided to join ranks with Merlin and his crew of “wizards” as a Handler, codename Allanon—after the Druid in Terry Brooks' World of Shannara series--which also gave him legitimate reasons to seclude himself from both men that he simply can't choose between.

Eventually, they came to a level of companionship, especially after Merlin helped Eggsy find a competent therapist. Harry and he reconciled over the argument they'd had before Valentine's attempt to blow Harry's brains all over Racist-As-Fuck, Kentucky.

Eggsy watched them from a distance, and for his own sanity, he made sure he wasn't alone with either of them at any given time. He was fine as long as there was a third party, even if it was the two of them together.

Then Harry and Merlin admitted noticing his strange behavior, and Eggsy didn't have it in him to lie. He confessed to his attraction to both of them, but to make things less awkward for all involved, he omitted his romantic feelings. It was a long, drawn out conversation. Days later, they invited him to join their bed.

He didn't stick around after. He left when the older men fell asleep, wanting to avoid the inevitable awkward morning after.

Then the one night of passion turned into a sequel a week after. Then a third-off. Finally, it became an almost biweekly thing.

Eggsy only ever comes over when he's invited, except when he needs emotional comfort after a mission that is totally unrelated to their...arrangement. He never asks if he can join them. He never imposes on dates. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome. He's used to being convenient, a side piece. If that's all they can offer, then he'll take it.

It's not even the sex he wants, he muses as he wriggles his toes under JB's pudgy body and sets his empty mug down. Not that the sex isn't fantastic. Indeed, it's bloody _mind-blowing_. However, Eggsy could probably go the rest of his life without sex and not be any less happy. He never said no to it, but he doesn't go looking for it. He was equally happy with just kisses and cuddles.

He's here for the intimacy. Even if it's brief, the emotional closeness as well as the aftercare is what keeps Eggsy coming back to these men. If they didn't possess even a modicum of compassion, affection, or care for him, he would have stopped after the first or second go.

Roxy still looks at him with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. She thinks he ought to tell them the full truth. He refuses her every time she mentions it, deflecting with variations of the same argument.

“ _I don't ask for much, Rox.”_

“ _You don't ask for anything_ at all _, Eggsy. That's part of the problem.”_

“ _I don' need anything more than they wanna give.”_

“ _But they could give you so much more if they knew you wanted it.”_

“ _I can' do tha'. It woud kill me if they rejected me, an' I luv an' respect 'em too much t' put their relationship at risk. They been togetha fifteen years, yeah? Can' wreck wit' tha'.”_

“ _If a tart, let alone you, can destroy a fifteen-year-old relationship despite everything else, then it wasn't that strong to begin with. For Christ sake, Eggsy, it's survived countless missions—including honeypots, mind you—assassination attempts, injuries and comas, and V-Day. You're a hell of a lot different, and loads better.”_

“ _I also hafta work wit' 'em, Roxilot. I'd hafta see 'em everyday, knowin' I was just a toy, that me feelings ain't returned. At least this way, everythin's comfortable, an' I don' hafta worry 'bout hurtin' 'r bein' hurt, and I can pretend I'm part o' summat.”_

“ _One day, that won't be enough. You'll want more. You'll want everything that the rest of us know you deserve. What then, Eggsy?”_

“ _I'll cross tha' bridge when I get t' it. Maybe I won'. Maybe I'll fall outta love, or I'll meet someone I don' hafta hide from or pretend around.”_

“ _Do you really believe that?”_

“ _...I don' discredit the notion. Maybe this is a phase.”_

“ _And maybe I'm next in line to be Queen of England. One of these days, we're going to have this conversation, and I'll be wearing glasses, and I'll be sure to record it all and send it straight to Merlin.”_

“ _And I'll hate ya forever.”_

“ _Or at least until you need me to babysit or my plan actually works.”_

Eggsy shakes his head to clear his mind and reaches for the remote, turning off the telly. He glances at the clock on the wall and finds that it's 4am. A brief mental check tells him that he's off tomorrow unless Harry needs him for something. He sighs and rubs his face. He feels drained but not to the point were he'd be able to sleep any time soon.

Maybe he should walk back to the flat he shares with Roxy. He used to live with his mum and Daisy in a Kingsman-issued flat, but she met a new man who worked in a lawfirm connected to Kingsman. She and Daisy live with him now, and he's so far from what Dean was that Eggsy can't feel bad about it. He still gets to see them without fear for any of their lives, so it's all good.

“Eggsy?”

The young Handler flinches, surprised and a little embarrassed that he hadn't been aware enough to have heard Harry coming. To be fair, though, Harry is far more experienced at the spy thing. He looks up as the man, dressed in pajama bottoms and his robe, bleary-eyed with sleep, steps in and close to the couch, reaching out to touch Eggsy's messy head.

“Oi, Harry, whatchu up for?”

“I could ask the same of you, dear boy. I reached for you and found you were not where I left you.”

Eggsy fights not to swallow nervously as warmth spread through him. Harry, super-spy extraordinaire, would latch onto the tic and demand the truth out of him, even if it took hours. “Sorry, bruv. Couldn't sleep. Didn't wanna wake none o' ya.” It isn't a lie, technically, and rolls from his tongue easily.

“Night terrors again? Are they not getting any better? You know we don't mind comforting you after, dear boy,” Harry says with a soft, concerned frown.

“Nah, bruv. Ths one ain't so bad, innit? Didn' even wake you two up. Wasn' nothin' a good cuddle wiv JB didn' fix.” he grins halfheartedly and scratches the pug's ears. He ignores the clench in his chest, heart beating a traitorous rhythm in response to the sincere affection his mentor offers him.

“Come back to bed, lad,” Harry invites, unaware of the devastation he's causing in all of Eggsy's organs. Fond fingers comb through his pillow-mussed strands. “It won't take long for Aodhan to miss his human teddy bears, and then he'll become the grumpy Scot he vehemently denies he is when he is neglected of nighttime cuddles.”

Eggsy is moving to obey before he really realizes he's agreed. He follows Harry back up the stairs like a lost puppy. He allows the older man to tuck him between him and Merlin, who immediately latches onto him like a possessive octopus. Nestled between the two strong, older men, he feels the sense of safety and warmth sink into his bones, relaxing him and allowing his mind to find a calm place.

His last thoughts before he finally fell asleep to the feel of hot breath against his neck and elegant fingers in his hair is, _I've got it so bad._

 

~*~~*~*~*~~*~

 

_Eggsy hadn't been in the field_ for a while, sure, but he hadn't thought he was this rusty. It's quite embarrassing, really, to be kidnapped so easily. In his defense, he'd been in public on a busy street, and it would have been very out of place for him to display his level of combat training in the middle of common Londoners, especially when eight men came barreling out of a van to snatch him up, shove a dark bag over his head, and drag him into the vehicle.

In the past two hours, he's learned his general location, the names of five out of eight of his captors, and that they believe him to be either Harry's son or the esteemed sugar-baby of Harry and/or Merlin. He's not sure which one is more insulting, but at least it's not Kingsman-related.

He wants to bluster and curse when he finds out the bastards plan on staging his ransom at only thirty thousand quid. Bloody bastards, what the hell are they playing at? He's worth at least three times that! And just what in bloody hell are they thinking? What exactly is in it for them to split 30k between eight of them? There has to be an ulterior motive.

As far as Eggsy can tell, however, there is none.

He sits with his arms and legs tied to the arms and legs of an uncomfortable, metal chair. He has a blindfold wrapped around his head, scratchy material that he can feel chafing and breaking out his skin; Harry would not be pleased. He takes pride in making sure Eggsy's skin remains unblemished and moisturized, more so than Eggsy does himself. Surprisingly, they haven't gagged him, but then again, Eggsy had remained mostly silent after the first half hour, having exhausted his plethora of insults for these fuckheads.

Needless to say, these guys are fucking amateurs. They hadn't frisked him, hadn't done their research on their targets or captive, had taken him in broad daylight within sight of at least seven different cameras and numerous witnesses. Once Merlin realizes Eggsy hadn't show up for the “exposition” of the new tech and gadgets they'd created together, it would must likely only take about half and hour to gather the information on what happened, and four minutes after than to pinpoint the location of the tracker rode hidden in Eggsy's left shoes heel. No time at all, really.

Of course, Eggsy doesn't know how long it's been since his actual capture. His bum has gone numb from sitting in the same position on the hard surface. Voices no longer filter through the walls of the room he's been placed in. He rolls his neck to work out some kinks, tries to shift his shoulders.

He hears a click, indicating the opening of the door. He tilts his head, listening as someone silently enters. A series of clacks, clicks, snicks, and shuffling, and he thinks it sounds an awful lot like someone setting up a tripod. He tenses unconsciously, eyes flickering in the darkness of the blindfold, trying to track the movements.

An electronic beep sends dread coiling through his stomach. He focuses on controlling his breathing. His fingers flex against the curves of the arms of his chair. Judging by displacement of air and the pairs of it, he guesses that there are three men there with him now.

“You've been awfully quiet, my friend,” says one of them in a thick Russian accent, which confuses Eggsy a bit. “You surprise me. I thought for sure we'd have to gag you, but you have thus far remained silent since that little interlude in the van.”

Eggsy senses the speaker approaching, can hear the whir of the lens of the camera being focused. He sneers sightlessly as the man tips his chin up with a firm hand covered in calluses.

“Let me see you. Yes, yes. I do see the attraction of those two rich 'daddies'. Tell me, my friend, did you approach them, or did they seduce you with their money?”

Eggsy wrenches his chin out of his captor's grasp. “What business of it is yours?” he demands in a hushed voice. He doesn't want his own voice to drown out the sounds of what is going on around him.

“Ah, the little tiger has bite.” Eggsy's stomach quivers at the lust in the man's tone. “It is of no consequence, of course. Is the camera ready, Ivan?”

“ _Da_ , boss.”

“Excellent. Is it live?”

“ _Da_. Transmitting to the targets' home feed now.”

The idiots don't even know how stupid a move that is, Eggsy thinks, almost giddy at his fortune. Transmitting straight to Merlin and Harry is an open invitation, as well as a taunt, and Merlin will have them pinpointed faster than ever.

Of course, his glee is cut short when a meaty fist plants itself in his abdomen, forcing all the air from his lungs in an agonized wheeze. There hadn't been a warning, so it hurts all the more. He doubles over, mouth hanging open. Two fingers shove into his mouth and hook into his cheek while another grips his hair, jerking his head back, the digits in his mouth garbling his surprised cry.

“Hello, comrades. Who I am is not important,” the apparent leader of this merry band of bastards greets the camera. “Who we have is what you should focus on. Your _shliushka_ has been very well-behaved and mostly unharmed. That all can change depending on how you respond to our demands. We don't ask for much. You are very obviously affluent. We want a small piece of your wealth. Transfer thirty thousand pounds to the routing and account number on the board behind us. We will give you exactly an hour and twenty minutes. If the money is not there, we will start breaking bones.”

The hand in his hair slides around to cup the curve of Eggsy's throat, and Eggsy's muscles quiver. It squeezes, and Eggsy responds by biting the man's fingers. The resulting squawk makes the burst of blood in his mouth that much sweeter. A fist plows int his face shortly after, and his chair nearly tips over. The man spews Russian curses. Eggsy spits out blood, his cheek torn from the scrape of the fingernails that had hooked there as well the slice of his teeth.

He tests with his tongue and feels a molar wiggle.

“You heathen,” the man curses, grabbing the back of the blond's neck, bruising in his grip. “Look what you made me do. Such a shame to bruise such a pretty face.”

“Fuck you,” he snarls back. He gets a fist to his stomach for his trouble. His ears ring, so he misses what the leader says to the camera before the feed is cut.

“You're getting any money from them,” Eggsy wheezes as one of the men leave the room. “I'm not who you think I am. I'm not that important to them.” And boy does that hurt to say out loud.

“You underestimate your friends, _shliushka_ ,” is the reply. “You have not seen their faces when they know you are not looking. It's pathetic and very entertaining.”

A man enters again, stepping past Eggsy. The scrape and sudden burst of chilly air alerts him to the presence of a window in the room he's in. If there are any landmarks outside visible from the angle of the camera, it will only help Merlin, as if he needs it in the first place.

“I will need stitches for my fingers, boy. You must be punished. One would have thought you would have learned manners fucking two successful business men.” His heels click on the floor as he walks away.

An instant later, ice cold water splashes in his face. He gasps, immediately shivering, and he thrashes as another bucketful splashes on his back as well, completely drenching him. The completely manageable draft from the window is suddenly much more drastic. He shudders and can feel the cold seep into his bones.

“Do not be big baby,” says one of his tormentors as another window is pushed open. “Siberia much worse.”

“Fuck you, you bastards,” Eggsy snarls through gritted teeth. The other side of his face is slapped hard so now his entire face throbs and stings, and he pants softly as they walk out of the room, door closing on him while freezing air stabs through his skin.

He doesn't know how much time passes. He knows that every time his clothes have a chance to dry out, a Russian enters and soaks him again. He can't move his limbs, and he feels them stiffening, his fingers too cold. His breath shudders. He counts in his head after the second entry, hoping to get a grasp of the passage of time. His fingertips begin to go numb, and he can't stop his teeth from chattering.

When he counts to 16 minutes, give or take, the group returns with the leader once again stepping close. He runs the fingers of his uninjured hand through Eggsy's soaked hair, and the Handler wants to thrash. He only ever wants Harry's hands doing that.

“It has been an hour and fifteen, _shliushka_ ,” the leader says, fingers clenching in wet strands.

Eggsy shudders, teeth chattering. He licks chapped lips as he hears the camera in front of him beep on. The ringleader begins talking to the lens again, and Eggsy mentally prepares himself to be as quiet as possible when they break whatever body part. He tenses as a new set of hands, slender and strong, grasp the fingers of his right hand. The man stands to the side to keep an open line of vision for the camera.

When the deadline passes, pain lances through him as Eggsy's fingers are methodically snapped, twisted and jerked into different directions to maximize his agony. He attempts to kick and jerk away, head held in place by the boss Russian's grip on his hair. Grinding his teeth, Eggsy refuses to utter a single noise, breathing heavily through his nose.

Suddenly, something metal slams down hard on the back of his hand, pulverizing the fine bones throughout. This time, Eggsy can't hold back the anguished scream from clawing its way out of his throat. The men in the room chuckle smugly, and he thrashes angrily in his bonds.

“The price has increased to 45k. You have one hour and fifteen minutes to meet our demands, or your pretty one will lose the other hand,” the brute behind him concludes before the camera shuts off.

“Ya bastards are going t' pay,” Eggsy deigns to snarl, accent slurring a little, as they begin tromping out of the room again. “Ya dunno who ye're messing wit'.” A hysterical little giggle slips out before he clamps his lips shut.

“Your lily white Brit daddies don't scare me, boy,” the boss says in a steely voice. “You'll be lucky if we spare you or them after we get what we want. There's no escape for you.” There's a contemplative pause. “You'd make as a pretty penny auctioned off on the market, as long as we don't mess up that pretty face of yours.”

“You'll make a good display wit' yer head on a spike,” Eggsy bites back.

“Your mouth is going to get you into more trouble, _shliushka_ ,” the Russian snarls, losing his temper. “You would do well to keep it shut if you want to walk again.” With that, the door slams, leaving Eggsy to sit miserable and cold and throbbing in his puddle of water.

 

~*~~*~*~*~~*~

 

_Eggsy snaps to awareness from his_ painful doze at the sound of gunshots, rapidfire. He whines at the pain in his body, still cold but not enough to have gone numb to the agony of a crushed knee and two pulverized hands. It takes him a moment, and then he smiles. Russian curses and screams filter to his hyper-aware ears.

The cavalry has arrived.

The door slams open not long after, and Eggsy recognizes the cologne of the man who'd orchestrated this whole harebrained farce of a scheme. He charges to Eggsy, hand clamping around his throat like a vice as his other hand fumbles for something. Eggsy holds his breath, as the Russian is already strangling him anyway, struggling not to panic. He feels the cold metal press to his neck, the barrel of a gun by the shape of it. His heart thuds painfully, but then a loud and final round fires from the doorway. Both the hand and gun fall away, and the Russian hits the floor with a thud.

“Allanon,” Roxy says in a clipped voice, and isn't it just the prettiest thing he's heard all day? She cups his face gently, then rips off his rough blindfold.

Eggsy flinches and groans, the light assaulting his eyes harshly after seeing nothing but black for hours. He blinks and forces his eyes to adjust as the sound of gunfire and Russian-laced pleas for mercy come to a close.

“Yes, Merlin, I have him,” Roxy says absently as she works on releasing Eggsy from his bonds.

Eggsy's heart leaps in his throat, and he whines. “Lemme talk t' 'im, Lancelot,” he says, just this side of whimpering and not at all thinking about how embarrassing it must sound.

“Arthur is on his way up the stairs, Allanon, just hold on a tick,” Roxy soothes, understanding coloring her voice, carefully removing the bracelets of the cuffs from around his swollen hands and wrists.

As if on cue, Harry steps into the room, cool as anything, not a curl out of place. He has a splatter of blood at the bottom hem of his pantleg, but he is otherwise immaculate. His eyes assess the room, and then cool grey settle on Eggsy. Concern is written all over his expression. That and something Eggsy can't define and is frankly too tired to figure out right now.

Harry takes a few long steps forward, and Roxy slides out of the way, muttering to Merlin about the current condition Eggsy is in. Eggsy's breath stutters as Harry oh-so-gently holds his face, swollen from the Russians' meaty fists. “Darling boy,” he murmurs, pressing their foreheads together tenderly. The corners of his eyes and mouth tighten in displeasure at the red, irritated part of his face rubbed raw by the blindfold.

“What took ya so long, bruv?” Eggsy asks shakily, smiling a little at him, trembling as his body begins to crash from the almost constant rush of adrenaline.

“Yes, well, for being so stupid, these brutes actually had a sophisticated encryption on the signal to their transmission, and they damaged the tracker in your shoe somehow,” Harry replies apologetically. He focuses his glasses on all of Eggsy's injuries, jaw clenching at the state of his wet and cold clothes and the water pooling around their feet.

“Can I hear Merlin?” Eggsy asks, mortified at the crack in his voice.

The softness in Harry's eyes says he understands and thinks no less of him for it. He wordlessly slips off his glasses and slides them into place for Eggsy.

“Hello, lad,” Merlin says, voice uncharacteristically soft and almost tender.

“Hey, Merlin,” he says with a smile, wishing he could curl his broken fingers around Harry's hand and feel the vibration of that Scottish brogue rumbling from Aodhan's chest. “I expect t' be pampered by both o' youse when I get home.”

“Anything ye want, lad,” Merlin agrees as Kay and Percival enter, little smears of blood marking them here and there, carrying a stretcher solemnly between them. “But first we have t' get ye home, aye?”

“Yeah, okay.” He bites his lip, fighting his body's urge to cry out in pain as Harry and Roxy lift him out of his chair to lay him down on the stretcher. They are cautious and overbearingly gentle, but pain still screams through him like wildfire. He lets out a sharp breath, fingers twitching uselessly.

“Hush, darling, just rest,” Merlin murmurs seconds before Harry akes back the specs. Harry's fingers tangle thorugh his hair once more. Vaguely, Eggsy is aware of clean up going on around them as Percival and Kay steadily carry the stretcher through the abandoned building—how cliché—that had housed them for the day.

“We'll be home in no time,” Harry promises as they load him into a bus that will drive them out of the cover of the surrounding woods where their jet most likely is waiting for extraction. Eggsy merely smiles and nods and finally allows himself to pass from consciousness.

 

~*~~*~*~*~~*~

 

_This time when he returns to_ the land of the waking, it's several days following his rescue. His broken limbs have been set and immobilized. His knee had needed surgery, as did his left hand. There is the possibility that he'll have a permanent mobility handicap due to the extent of the damage to his limbs, especially the leg, and Eggsy decides he's doubly happy with his decision to be a Handler rather than a field agent, as he is sure he'd have gone barmy not being allowed to do his full job otherwise. As it is, he can gleefully roll up and down the halls of HQ with the electronic wheelchair Merlin and his wizards have outfitted for him since he can't coil his fingers around the wheels of a normal one, and still be able to do his job.

However, Arthur and Merlin insisted he remain on medical leave for no less than a month. He spends a week in the infirmary, and then they bring him to stay at Harry's home, as Roxy couldn't care for him while on a mission assisting their partner branch in Singapore.

Harry fusses about him with earthly comforts and gentle kisses and touches, afraid to leave him alone for long lest he need anything. Aodhan plies him with sweets behind Harry's back and tea and letting him watch and offer input as he tinkers with new inventions and tech collected in missions. He also had the habit of pushing the wheelchair when he's near rather than let Eggsy control it. He pushes Eggsy while Harry holds JB's leash so they all can take the waddly little pug on walks.

Because the kidnapping had been so public, and not at all related to the Secret Service, his mum and sister were privy to the crime. When he's too tired to go with them, and neither Harry or Aodhan are able to stay to take care of him, Michelle calls off work at the daycare center she managed to become employed with and spends the day with him. He hates how dependent he has to be due to both hands being out of commission. The task of simply eating is extremely vexing as it is, and he'd had to actually learn how to use utensils with his mostly useless fingers—and don't even get him started on trips to the loo.

It's all so easy to believe that they're already permanently a threesome. Eggsy knows he won't be able to take much more of this type of treatment without blurting out his undying affection.

So rather than embarrass himself like the heartsick fool he is, Eggsy gives in to what Roxy has been telling him for what seems like forever and decides to tell the two men, for better or worse, exactly how he feels.

On one of his “days off”, Eggsy shoots both Harry and Aodhan a text saying he wants to have a sitdown with them when they came home, which more or less means he wants them to wake him when they came home; the medication he's been placed on for his pain and to help prevent infection with the surgery sites have him taking frequent naps, and he hates it but doesn't complain too much about it. Having both men there when he wakes up takes most of the gripe out of him anyway, and he'd rather be in less pain that what he'd be in without the meds.

Next, he shoots a text to Roxy about what he has planned. She replies with “ _It's about damn time_ ,” which is soon followed by, “ _I have my best guns loaded and tarps ready. No one will find the bodies if they do something stupid_.”

It's strangely comforting.

At 7:15pm, Aodhan wakes him up from the catnap he curled up to in the living room, wearing one of the Scot's comfy knitted jumpers, the ends of the longer sleeves tucked around his hands to make sweater paws. It is obvious the two men took the liberty of showering and dressing down before they finally got around to the younger male.

As seems usual when he's drugged to the gills, it takes Eggsy about ten minutes after waking to be of any use, mumbling and trying to wander around in his wheelchair in a daze until he feels lucid again.

Merlin watches in amusement, then takes control of the wheelchair and brings him to the dining room. Harry is setting the table with just-delivered Chinese takeout. They sit down and eat, and Harry and Aodhan talk about their day as Arthur and Merlin while occasionally assisting Eggsy with eating. Instead of just doing it for him, they would hold a spoon in front of the food to create a barrier for Eggsy to trap with his own utensils before scooping it into his mouth. Eggsy smiles, enjoying the stories and Harry's increasing frustration with the new Galahad's penchant for finding new ways to destroy things during missions. Merlin grumbles about Bors' unerring ability to damage priceless pieces of tech on almost every mission, even the ones that are meant to be indestructible.

All three agree no to ever allow those two to partner on the same mission _ever_.

Finally, after a brief lull in their conversation, their meal almost finished, Eggsy plucks up enough courage to speak out, proceeding with the day's plan. He blurts out his feelings for them like this is his only chance, as if he'll never get another opportunity if he doesn't confess right now. The older Kingsmen are quiet, expressions surprised, and they allow Eggsy to pour his soul out to them without interrupting.

He hadn't realized how much he'd held back and pent up, but once the floodgates are open, he can't stop until everything as been laid out on the table, soul bare and heart fragile. Words spill out in an almost-babble, heart fluttering and stomach twisting with anxiety. The stream of emotional confessions peters out, and he worries his lip now, pulse throbbing, the room almost awkwardly quiet.

“Eggsy, lad, I gotta be honest with ye,” Aodhan admits, finally breaking the silence. “I thought we were already in a committed relationship with ye.”

Eggs blinks, astonished and just this side of disbelieving. “Wait, wot?”

“I must say I agree, darling,” Harry affirms, looking a bit confused but no less earnest. “We were under the impression you knew.”

“But. No. No way. That can't— I don't understand. We never go on dates together?” Eggsy stammers, trying to piece a coherent thought together, as well as their declarations in his head.

“Sure we have,” Harry retorts, looking almost offended. “I have taken you to dinners and luncheons, and I invited you to the opera once before I realized you couldn't attend due to a case of influenza.”

“An' I have joined ye on yer trips t' th' park wi' JB an' Miss Daisy, an' we have had our own meals together here an' there,” Aodhan adds, his Scottish brogue thickening with emotion, making Eggsy's head swing to stare at him. “We went t' 'at museum together. All three o' us attended those archery classes. I believe we fucked like rabbits after most o' these dates, too.”

“I didn't know those were dates,” Eggsy says a little helplessly, wide-eyed and breathless with disbelief. “An' I thought those 'rchery classes were part o' a train'n exercise.” He shakes his head, mind awhirl with all the new information. He rasps the casts on his hands and wrists over his too-long hair. All this time wasted! He could have been doing so much with the, but because communication between them apparently is severely lacking, he misunderstood almost everything.

“You blokes di'n't fink I was behavin' funny all this time?” he asks, frowning. If they'd thought they were in a romantic relationship with him, why hadn't they called him out on his shit?

“To be quite honest, I think we chalked it all up to you being young and inexperienced,” Harry remarks thoughtfully, to which Aodhan nods. “We wanted to ease yo into it, just in case you were feeling skittish. Of course, we didn't know if anything from your past, prior to Kingsman, had traumatized you or turned you off from traditional relationships.”

“Bruv, if I'd've known we were in a relationship 'n not ya just playin' 'round wif me, like booty call 'r whateva, I woulda never left to keep livin' wit' Rox,” Eggsy says earnestly. “I woulda—I woulda _asked_ for shit, mate. I'm sittin' 'round worryin' 'bout fucking up yer relationship, an' here I find out I'm _part_ o' the bloody thing?!” He scrapes his casts through his hair again, distressed, trying to wrap his mind around it.

All this time _wasted_. All the sleepless nights and needless worrying. All the anxiety of whether the men can see through the mask, only to realize he didn't need it. He thinks back, trying to recall them ever mentioning exactly what his place was, dredging through his memories.

The thing is that there hadn't been a conversation at all. They had all just presumed each party knew what this all was. And they had been wrong. Aodhan and Harry had been proceeding as thought they all were in a triad, and because Eggsy hadn't _known_ , he'd been leaving at times they more than likely had expected him to stay, especially in mornings-after. He'd been operating as a one instead of three, and he'd been holding back everything when he could have been sharing himself with the men he loves. He must have looked a right prat, but because he is young, because they don't know enough about hs personality despite everything, the older men had let him do as he pleased, hoping he would settle eventually, more than likely hoping he would straighten out the longer they tend to him.

Aodhan and Harry are suddenly closer to him, Harry's hand carding through blond, mussed locks while the Scot claims one of Eggsy's crippled hands, rubbing circles along the exposed knuckles, careful not to aggravate his injuries.

“It would seem that there has been a lack of communication on behalf of all of us,” Harry murmurs.

“Aye,” Aodhan agrees just as softly.

“Way t' state th' obvious, bruv,” Eggsy mumbles. He sighs and tries to let their closeness and gentle touches soothe him.

“Had you realized you were our third, how would your behavior have differed from before?” Harry inquires curiously after another moment of quiet.

“I wouldn't've skipped out in th' mornin's, for one. In fact, I'd prolly 'ave moved in after a monf 'r two. I'd've been telling youse I loved ya till youse was sick of it. I woulda initiated a few dates and stuff 'nstead of waitin' 'round for ya. Woulda told ya that I don' want sex all the time so ya don't gotta 'old back wif each ovver even if I'm in the room.”

Eggsy looks at them, feeling vulnerable and a little helpless. Their expressions are open and attentive, though, not at all judgmental or offended, even at the brief mention of his sex thing; he'll most likely have to elaborate on that later. It gives him the confidence to continue.

“Used t' bein' the bloody side fing, yeah? So if I'd known I wasn't just _convenient_ 'r a bit o' fun, that I was actually a part... I woulda _been_ a part. I'm not a prat, normally. I was just tryin' to protect meself while still tryin' to make us all 'appy. I'd be telling you wot I want so ya don't 'ave to guess...” He paused for a moment but thinks, _Why stop there?_ “Woulda bought ya dem fancy cufflinks I saw months ago while I was shoppin' wif Rox. Maybe do some courtin' 'nstead of just datin'. Make sure ya knew I was serious.”

Aodhan leans in and kisses Eggsy before he can babble anymore. Harry presses a kiss to his shoulder. He quiets and sighs, trying to press closer to both men at the same time.

“Well now you know, and we know, so what do ye want now, lad?” the Scottish tech wizard asks with a broad smile, dark and warm eyes sparkling with joy.

“Well as much as I'd like for you two to take me upstairs and shag me brains out, I don't think my body's up for it yet,” Eggsy says, resting his hands on his lovers' hands. “So how about we go cuddle on the couch and watch some cheesy spy movies?”

“That sounds perfect, darling,” Harry says in approval, and Aodhan nods. They take turns kissing him, his heart fluttering with love and joy. Then Harry clears up the remnants of dinner while Aodhan pushes Eggsy to the living room again where they can arrange his nest of pillows and blankets to accommodate three instead of one.

Eggsy shoots Roxy a new text that consists only of the thumbs-up emoticon before turns off his phone.

As Eggsy sits between the world's most powerful and deadliest agents, cuddled close and warm with JB on his lap, safe and secure, he can't think of a better outcome. He's sure he'll never hear the end f it from Roxy, but it's a small price to pay for the happiness blooming in his chest.

Later on, he has the best sleep he's had in forever, content and loved and nestled between the men he'd go to the ends of the world for.

**Author's Note:**

> Shliushka: Russian word for "little slut"
> 
> Come visit me at my tumblr: daggerstiletto.tumblr.com


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